


Ever Since We Met

by JayseHasNoGrace



Category: Supernatural
Genre: ...probably, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bunker Fic, Candy, Canon Divergence, Canon dumbass dean, Dean is kind of a dick, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending tho, M/M, Things Are Fine, Unhealthy Coping, Unstable Sam, a little trippy in the beginning because of sam having...difficulties, big brother dean coming thru full force, but also some, hints of destiel it's there looming in the background as always, i mean it's canon -- let's be real-- so...twas gonna be in there some amount, i'm not gonna just leave you like some of those poignant fics, little bit of, not gonna do that to ya, okay destiel ends up a little more than lurking at the end, possible spiral into insanity, seriously, so many sweets, that being said...and if you couldn't already tell, where it's like Great. I Mean That Was Lovely But.....I Hurt.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-21
Updated: 2018-08-16
Packaged: 2019-06-13 19:29:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 11,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15371694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JayseHasNoGrace/pseuds/JayseHasNoGrace
Summary: Ever since Gabriel died Sam has been filling his senses with reminders in secret, hoping he can feel at least a little bit like he did before.Title & original inspiration from the song Nearly Witches by Panic! At The Disco. Kinda trippy at first bc Sam's not completely stable.





	1. Chapter 1

It all started after the Elysian Fields Hotel -- after watching Gabriel’s stupid, stupid porno. That stupid video that made Sam feel just a little more empty inside. The one where all of Gabriel’s jokes seemed to fall flat even to himself.

That was the first time.

After Dean had fallen asleep, Sam had gotten up -- long since resigned to the fact that he wouldn’t be sleeping for the night -- and took a walk to try to quiet his mind a bit. Maybe work through some things. He’d gone out for a directionless wander, but within a few short minutes he found that his feet had taken him to the neon glow of a gas station.

He stared through the window, wondering why. Why he’d come here, why he couldn’t sleep, why he could never clear his mind, why he could never let go, why he should even _care_  so much, why he had to take everything so seriously, why he had to be so _emotional_ , why he had to keep fighting. Why he even had to exist.

He stepped inside. The door chimed. The cashier didn’t look up.

Sam stared at the display in front of the counter for an endless minute, before picking up a chocolate bar and placing it on the counter.

“That’s all, thanks.”

He stuffed the wrapper in his back pocket before he opened the door of the motel room.


	2. Chapter 2

It became pretty commonplace. Sam would sit up late at night researching on his laptop and sucking on a red lollipop. Eventually it got to the point where he’d keep a small stash of them in the bottom of his duffle bag, hoarding them like shiny coins. He always offered to go get food nowadays so he could stop by a corner store and pick up a few chocolate bars while Dean wasn’t around.

He’d dedicated an entire zippered pocket in his bag to candy wrappers and lollipop sticks -- hidden until he could dispose of them where Dean wouldn’t see. And it worked. Dean never noticed a thing.

And he didn’t notice.

And he didn’t notice.


	3. Chapter 3

It had been _years_ , and nobody had noticed a thing. Castiel had never so much as given him an odd glance. And Sam still sat up late into the night, sometimes just staring at the ceiling, letting the candy slowly dissolve in his mouth.

It felt good. It tasted like a grin and a wink. It felt like warmth, like relaxing his shoulders held tense, like champagne bubbles in his throat. Red laughter danced over his teeth in the dark. And sometimes, sometimes it _almost_ tasted like honeyed eyes crinkled with mirth.

On the best days the chocolate on his tongue rewound years and gently placed the feel of too-warm skin back under his palms. Sometimes the rich caramel would brush soft hair against his neck and conjure up a reassuring weight on his chest as his heavy eyes fell closed. But on the worst days, it felt like empty, cloying syrup. Flat and all consuming. Clogging his throat so he couldn’t breathe. Burrowing into his blood so that no matter how hard he scrubbed, his mouth felt tainted and _wrong_.

And every night he had told himself he would stop. That he shouldn’t be doing this. That it was pointless and unhealthy in really every way. And every night he felt stupid as he let the dye stain his tongue. It was the only thing that gave him a chance at feeling like he used to.


	4. Chapter 4

Sometimes he had dreams too. Dreams where he could still taste the sticky sweet sugar on his tongue back when he hadn’t had to buy the candy. Dreams from when he didn’t know about the bunker, and when whatever shitty motel bed he’d been in had been turned luxurious with smooth silken sheets. When he could feel another heart beating against his chest. When his secret wasn’t just a sweet tooth.

And, more recently, sometimes he’d wake up tasting peppermint when he hadn’t had any in weeks. Or raspberry cream. Or strawberry syrup. By the second week, Sam began to think his mind was finally cracking. Crumbling under the weight of so much. It had only been a matter of time.

Everything he’d gone through in his life. Everything. It was beyond all hopes that he could have made it through sane. Hell, he was surprised that he’d gotten this far. But of course, of course _this_ would be how he cracked. Not Lucifer, not flashbacks to the tortures he’s endured, but fucking _candy_. He always had to be special, didn’t he? Gabriel could never just sit back and let anybody else beat him out, even if he _wasn’t fucking there_.


	5. Chapter 5

The next time it happened, Sam cried.

He was never much of a crier, emotionally constipated Winchester that he was, but he was afraid. Afraid that he wouldn’t be able to hunt anymore. Afraid that he’d do something even more monumentally stupid than before. Afraid of everything that could happen if he truly fell apart at the seams like this -- if his mind unraveled completely. 

It was starting to show and he knew it. So far he’d been able to keep up with the program and pretend as if nothing had changed, and only mope alone in the dark on his own time. For years he hadn’t let on, but now he saw how Dean shifted nervously around him, sometimes opening his mouth as if to ask a question and then shutting it. It was only a matter of time until he said something.


	6. Chapter 6

Sam locked his door as always, and laid back down on his bed, breaking off another piece of caramel chocolate and closing his eyes. It was horrible for his teeth to fall asleep every night, with sugar still seeping into the pores of his very bones, he knew, but he had come to accept that this was just how it had to be.

It had to be like this when the caramel caught him and tossed him onto the pillows, pushing him in all the right places, relaxing his muscles. It had to be this way when the chocolate whispered in his ear and stroked a comforting thumb over his hip.

He woke up to the taste of pumpkin pie and the fading feeling of fingers in his hair. Sam stared at the locked door.

He turned over, and went back to sleep.

This time when he was awoken, it was to loud knocking on his door and Dean telling him to ‘get your ass up already.’ Sam turned his face back into the pillows and regretted missing the chance to savor those last few seconds of a face pressed against his neck.

Sam didn’t move an hour or so later, when Dean slammed the door open, after rather loudly picking the lock.

“Sammy? What the hell? Are you okay?”

Sam didn’t respond.

“Dammit Sammy, answer me! I thought you were abducted or something. You’re scaring me.”

Sam didn’t respond.

“Cas!” Dean called. “Cas. Please, I need you to come here, it’s Sam, something’s wrong.”

Sam heard the faint sound of wings as Cas appeared.

“What is wrong?”

“I don’t _know_ , but he’s not responding, he’s not doing anything. He’s been acting weird for weeks, is he possessed or something? Can you, I don’t know, scan him or something?”

Castiel sighed. “I’ll try.”

Sam felt a warm press of fingers briefly on his shoulder.

“He’s not possessed. I didn’t sense any sort of spell, or anything of that nature. He appears to be...fine.”

“He’s not _fine_ , Cas!”

“Dean, I was merely--”

“I’m fine,” Sam said quietly.

“What the hell Sammy?” Dean laid a hand on his shoulder and leaned over him to look him in the eyes, but Sam kept them shut.

“Why weren’t you talking? Why didn’t you get up? You’re giving me a fucking heart attack.”

“I don’t want to.”

“What do you _mean_  you don’t want to? Sammy, this isn’t a game, I don’t know what the hell is going on, but--”

“I _said_  I don’t want to. I don’t want to get up, I don’t want to talk to you, and I don’t want to work on stupid research.” Sam burst out.

“Sammy, you can’t just--”

“I said. I. Don’t. Want. To. Now please get out and let me sleep.” He pulled his covers up more securely around his shoulders.

“This--”

“Dean,” Cas interrupted. “Let’s just. Leave for now. We can talk outside if you wish.”

There was a long moment before Dean relented.

“Fine,” he said tersely, and followed Cas out of the room, closing the door firmly behind him.

 

“I believe Sam is simply...finally feeling the weight of the things he’s gone through.” Cas spoke, before Dean could say anything.

“What does that even mean?”

“I’m no expert on humans by far, but even I can see his more upsetting experiences seem to be catching up to him.”

“Hey, _I’ve_  been through a lot of shit too, and you don’t see me giving up,” Dean retorted.

“You and Sam are very different people.”

Sam listened to them argue outside. He didn’t care _why_ , he just wanted to keep sleeping, keep feeling at least a little good if he was cracking up anyway. If his life was falling apart regardless.

He reached an arm under the bed, and flipped open the box he kept there. He felt around for a satisfactory piece. There. He unwrapped the licorice, and curled back into the pillow as he moved it around his mouth with his tongue. Yeah. Things were better this way. Things were easier this way.


	7. Chapter 7

Sam hadn’t left his bed in six days for anything except the bathroom. Dean had taken to leaving sandwiches on his bedside table. Sometimes he ate them. Most of the time he didn’t. Dean still tried to get him to talk, and left in a huff of barely restrained anger every time Sam ignored him.

Today, however, Dean was on a whole new level.

“Get the fuck up and take a fucking shower, Sammy. Stop ignoring me and get up. And before you even say it, I don’t care that you don’t want to.” He waited. For anything. Sam didn’t move a muscle.

“Come on Sammy, at least take a shower. Please? Maybe actually eat something? I’ll _make_  you food, you just have to get up and actually eat it.”

Dean waited.

“Sam!” he barked. Still no response. “Bitch,” he muttered under his breath.

“Jerk,” Sam mumbled against the pillow.

Dean huffed out a relieved sort-of laugh. Well at least there was still that.

“Sam. Please.”

Sam was quiet for so long, Dean almost gave up and left, but then, “Tomorrow,” he let out quietly.

Dean sighed. “Okay. Tomorrow.” He turned back at the door, “I’m holding you to that.”


	8. Chapter 8

The next evening saw Sam, finally showered, slumped down at the bunker’s kitchen table. Dean let out a relieved sigh when he saw Sam finally come in.

“You want pasta? I can put lots of veggies in it?” Dean asked temptingly.

His shoulders slumped when he failed to get a response.

“You’re /getting/ pasta,” he said tersely, and set the water to boil.

Sam could smell the starch in the air, yet even though he’d managed to brush his teeth, all he could taste was burgundy ice cream running laps over his tongue. He wondered if anyone else had gone this particular brand of crazy before.

He managed to eat most of the pasta Dean gave him, but it was practically tasteless, devoid of sugar and zest. It contained no teasing ‘tsk’s, no flashing teeth, no almost-dimples. It didn’t interest Sam at all.

Sam wondered if he could quite literally drown himself in candy so that he could just get this over with. He’d still go out in a nice way if he did that. It all seemed faster than the slow insanity route.


	9. Chapter 9

When he next awoke, Sam’s mouth tasted of nothing but sleep, and he felt the alarming sensation of someone staring at him. He snapped his head up, and saw a figure perched on his dresser.

“Hiya kiddo,” Gabriel said quietly. “I made it back.” One side of his mouth tugged up in a small grin.

Sam started crying. He wasn’t sure if the tears were a product of the hyperventilation, or if the hyperventilation was a product of the tears, but it didn’t really matter. What did anything matter? He hadn’t wanted it to go like this. Not so soon.

Oh god, he couldn’t let Dean know. Couldn’t let him know he’d gotten this bad. 

Gabriel hesitantly sat down on the bed and put an arm around Sam. “Hey, hey, it’s okay.”

Sam curled in on himself, wrapping his arms around his knees and putting his head down. “Oh god,” he choked out.

Things had been very wrong for awhile now, but Sam hadn’t thought it would get this bad -- at least not so quickly.

Gabriel tightened his arm around Sam, and Sam leaned into him, crying harder. It /hurt/. It hurt a lot worse like this. He couldn’t even tell dreams from reality anymore, and he was so afraid -- so afraid, and so /sure/ -- that this wasn’t a dream. That he really was full on, wide awake hallucinating.

And it hurt even worse that this is what he had kind of wanted, and that it kind of felt nice. Of course, only Sam Winchester could be so very, very fucked up and still /want/ it that way. Of course.

He leaned all his weight against Gabriel as he choked on his breath, trying to feel the solid heat as he fought to breathe. His breath was still too fast, coming in short gasps, and he felt like maybe he wasn’t really breathing at all. Maybe it was like the trick where you pretend to breathe underwater, but you don’t actually take anything into your lungs. Maybe even his uneven breathing was an illusion, at this point. Who knew? He didn’t. His vision was going fuzzy and black around the edges. Maybe this was a dream after all.

Dean opened the door. “Sammy?”

Sam didn’t want Dean to know, he didn’t want to tell him, but he had to ask. 

“Dean, am I alone?” he managed in a strangled gasp.

His own voice sounded distorted and far away, as if underwater. His ears filled with a sharp ringing as his vision twisted like a funhouse mirror. He blacked out.


	10. Chapter 10

Sam blacked out.

Dean rushed over. “Sammy?”

“He’s just passed out. Hyperventilation’ll do that to ya.”

“What the hell? What are you doing here Gabriel? You’re dead.” Dean’s eyes hardened. “Who the fuck are you /actually/, and what did you do to Sam?”

Gabriel held his hands up. “Woah, woah, I didn’t do anything. He woke up, and then he was just...like this.”

“Why the hell should I believe that? Who are you?”

“Gabriel. Archangel, trickster, saved your assess a couple times? I’m sure you remember me.”

“Gabriel’s dead,” Dean said firmly, looking him in the eyes.

“Not anymore, thanks. And it took me a helluva lot to get back here, so I’d accept any sort of appreciation...or congratulations...anything would be nice.”

“I don’t believe you. Now get away from my brother.”

“Okay, okay, jeez.” Gabriel carefully shifted Sam’s weight off of him and onto the bed. He stood up and raised his hands again. 

“I’m not here to attack. I’m just...can you bring Cassie here so he can tell you it’s me? You can do whatever tests you want, I promise, I’m back.”

Dean narrowed his eyes.

“We’ll test you, and if it /seems/ like you're really Gabriel, then you need to explain. Everything.”

Gabriel nodded and walked toward the door. “Let’s just, uh…” he nodded his head toward Sam, “I’m pretty sure he’ll be out for a while, so…” He gestured Dean through the door, and closed the door softly behind them.

“Uh, kitchen then?”

Dean narrowed his eyes again.

“Kitchen.”


	11. Chapter 11

“I believe it really is him, Dean,” Cas spoke solemnly.

“He can’t--”

“Listen, I’ve gone through all of your tests. Cas says he can feel my grace, and that it feels like /me/. I don’t know what else you /want/.”

“An explanation that makes sense!” Dean snarled. “How are you not dead?”

“So, what, Cassie is the only special one? I can’t come back too?”

“Dean.” Cas laid a hand on Dean’s arm to quell his protest. He turned to Gabriel. “Perhaps you could explain what you know, and why are you back /now/, after so long?”

“I don’t know,” Gabriel sighed and his shoulders slumped. “After I died...I was everywhere and nowhere at all. Just, /being/ in the simplest sense. For the longest time, I just /existed/. Without thought or shape, or really anything at all. After a very, very long time though, I started to have awareness again. And from there, well it gets personal.”

Dean stared at him, waiting for him to continue. He didn’t.

“That’s not an explanation Gabriel! I don’t /care/ if it’s personal, that doesn’t tell me anything.”

“Listen, if it was just me I would tell you, but it’s not all mine to tell,” Gabriel said hotly.

“I swear, if this has something to do with Sam…”

“It /does/ have something to do with Sam,” Gabriel said challengingly. “And just because he’s your brother, still does /not/ make it mine to tell!”

“Dean?” Came a voice from upstairs.

Everyone fell silent.

“Dean?”

“Yeah, Sammy? I’m downstairs. In the kitchen.”

Footsteps descended the stairs, and Sam walked into the kitchen. He assessed the scene, and then clenched his eyes shut for several moments. When he opened them, his face was impassive, and he focused only on Dean, ignoring everything else as he walked past where the angels stood to take the seat across from his brother.

He set his shoulders.

“Dean. Am I awake?”

“Uh, yes?” Dean laughed nervously. “What--”

“Are you sure?” Sam asked insistently.

“Yes. Now what--”

“Why was I asleep?”

“You passed out, I don’t know I came in to check on you because I heard you--” Dean cringed away from the word ‘crying,’ “Well, you were hyperventilating and then you just blacked out.”

“Is that it?”

Dean’s forehead creased, Sam was really starting to freak him out. “You, uh, you asked if you were alone. But I don’t--”

Sam nodded, apparently satisfied. “Where are we?”

“What? We’re in the kitchen?”

“But where?”

“Have you lost your memory or something? What’s going on with you?”

“I’m /just/. /Checking/,” Sam growled.

“Okay,” Dean held his hands up. “Okay, we’re at the bunker.”

Sam nodded again. “Is there anybody else in the room with us?”

Dean laughed nervously again, “Uh, yes? Sam--”

“Yes…?” Sam prompted, waving his hand in a ‘carry on’ motion.

“Uh. Yeah, there’s Cas and Gabriel.”

Sam let out a breath.

“What is he wearing?”

“What?”

“What is Gabriel wearing?” Sam asked sharply.

Dean was looking at his brother like he was insane. Maybe he was. They were certainly both wondering enough.

“Um. A blue shirt? Some jeans? A--”

“Hello Gabriel,” Sam cut him off.

Gabriel cleared his throat again, nervously.

“Hey kiddo.”

Sam turned the full force of his gaze on him.

“Why are you alive?”


	12. Chapter 12

“Why are you alive?”

Gabriel was sure the hurt showed on his face. He could hear Sam’s thoughts, the /force/ behind those words. The /reproach/.

He cleared his throat.

“I was, ah, just trying to explain to Dean-o and Cassie over here that I don’t really know. I don’t remember much except just floating around for the longest time pretty much just being nothingness. And then I started gaining awareness again. An even longer time after that, I started getting contact from elsewhere...and that’s when it no longer becomes my story to tell.”

“Well tell it.”

“Sam--”

Sam cut Gabriel off. “It’s about me, isn’t it? If it’s about me, and I obviously don’t know, then you’re gonna have to fucking tell me.”

“I will! I just, did you want /them/--”

Sam stood up, towering over Gabriel.

“Just tell me what you did, Gabriel!”

“Alright.” He took a breath. “I can /hear/-- I mean, I /know/, I /get/ what you’re upset about, but I didn’t realize, I didn’t mean for that to happen.”

“Just. Explain.”

“Right. Yeah. Well, I started hearing prayers again. Not many people pray specifically to me nowadays, so it shouldn’t have been a lot, but I just kept getting them. And the more prayers I got, the more I could think, and I started to remember. It was kind of like the first time I was born, except I was being born back into my old self. And I recognized all the things I used to, and I realized I was hearing you pray every night.”

“I never prayed to you,” Sam interrupted sharply.

“Well apparently you did, bucko,” Gabriel shot back. He softened his voice. “I’m sorry.”

He gave Sam a measuring look before continuing, apparently satisfied that it was okay. “You might not have realized. It didn’t really sound intentional, that was what confused me at first. The prayers I was getting, they weren’t...direct. The things you were thinking, they weren’t necessarily anything in particular, just concepts sometimes. I’ve never received prayers like that before. As far as I knew, they had to be direct in order for me to get them, but I kept getting these prayers from you, and eventually I was able to sort of...grab on. 

“Once I managed to pull myself onto that plane, it took a bit, but I figured out how to actually follow the prayers back toward you. Unfortunately, I could only get so close. All I knew for a long time was that I was in the area where your prayers were coming from, and I was right there /with/ your prayers as they came in, but I couldn’t actually get anywhere. I didn’t know how to get onto your plane.

“But then, I discovered that sometimes when your prayers got more direct, say, while they faded into dreams, I could sort of...I suppose you could call it stepping through?”

Sam grimaced, thinking of dreaming of Gabriel and actually waking up with a different taste, thinking of how he felt -- still feels -- like his sanity was hanging by a bare thread.

“I’m /sorry/,” Gabriel said. “I didn’t know.”

Sam shook his head and waited for Gabriel to continue. 

“That was-- I was trying to see what I could manage, I had to sort of...shake my abilities out, so to speak. It was like stretching after a long ass nap in a cigar box -- I had to completely reshape and reassess myself, and in your dreams, not just your average dream walking, but actually existing solely on your dream plane, I can’t read your thoughts. I could hear your prayers, but that was /it/. I didn’t know that when I interfered...I didn’t know what it was doing--”

Sam held his hand up. “Yeah, I’ve heard enough. Honestly? I don’t really care that you ‘didn’t know,’” he held up air quotes, “you still did it, and you can see inside my head /now/ and you know exactly what it did.” He turned toward the door. “Glad you’re back,” he monotoned.

Dean watched Sam leave and turned back to Gabriel.

“What the hell was that? That was cryptic as hell -- what did you do to him?”

“None of your business!” Gabriel snapped, before he finally flicked his gaze from the doorway to glare at Dean.

“I think it /is/ my business,” Dean said hotly, standing up, “he’s /my/ brother!”

“If he wants you to know, he’ll tell you, until then it’s /still/ not mine to tell!” Gabriel said furiously, and snapped his fingers, disappearing almost before he finished his sentence.


	13. Chapter 13

“Dean…” Cas said, after Gabriel snapped himself away. “I think you should give Sam some space. I do not think pushing the issue would be wise.”

“Why does everyone keep telling me to just leave it alone? As if I shouldn’t give a shit about what the hell is happening to my brother?”

“I’m not saying that,” Cas explained patiently. “I’m suggesting you give Sam his space because he seems to be having difficulty coping, and he does not tend to do well with you pushing him to tell you about it.”

“I don’t even know /what/ he’s dealing with, though!” Dean paused, as a thought struck him. “You can see in his head too,” he pointed accusingly at Castiel, “and you’re not telling me either?”

“It is not mine to tell.”

Dean slammed his hand down on the table. “I am so /tired/ of this angel /bullshit/!” He clenched his hands into fists and breathed deeply.

“So I’m the only one who doesn’t know?” he said levelly. “Of /course/ I’m the only one who doesn’t know.”

“Dean--” Cas started, before Dean cut him off with a reproachful glare.

“I’m going outside to go work on baby. Tell Sam -- if he even cares -- that I won’t be in until dark.”

Dean slammed the door as he left. Cas stared at the ceiling for several long moments, before sighing and disappearing.


	14. Chapter 14

Sam was stretched out on the sofa using his laptop when Dean walked into the library the following afternoon. Presumably he was doing research, but that wasn’t what made Dean do a double-take. Sam looked to be...eating a lollipop?

“What’s up with the lollipop? A little out of character for you, Sammy.” The last thing Dean needed was /more/ weird shit going on with Sam. Not that anyone had bothered to fill him in on what exactly was already going on.

Sam gave Dean an annoyed look, and pulled the lollipop out of his mouth with an obnoxious pop.

“I’ve been having at least one of these basically every night since 2009,” he deadpanned, and popped the sucker back into his mouth, turning back to his reading.

Dean blinked. “Wait, what?” He gave an uncomfortable laugh. “Are you serious?”

Sam just sighed.

“I thought you didn’t like sweets?”

“I didn’t.” Sam muttered around the lollipop.

“This is. Downright freaky. Are you’re trying to tell me your whole ‘only salads and healthy things’ thing was just a lie? That’s like your whole personality dude. So, what you just sit up all night eating candy?”

Sam shrugged, and fished the lollipop wrapper out of his pocket to wrap it back up. “I like salads. Healthy food is important.”

“So...you /don’t/ sit around at night gorging yourself on candy?”

Sam scrolled further down the page. “No, that’s pretty much what I do.”

Dean stared at his brother incredulously. For such a little thing, this was a /big thing/. For years? For /that many/ years? And he had no idea?

Sam licked his red stained lips, and brought his left hand up to chew on his thumb nail. Dean shook his head.

“So, what, you just decided not to tell me for some reason, and now you’re just acting all casual about it as if it’s no big deal?”

Sam scrolled again.

“Stop fucking reading, dammit!”

Sam looked up. “I don’t know what you want me to say. It’s /candy/, Dean. We've hidden a lot worse from each other.”

Dean looked like he was restraining himself from yelling. “Fine, be a dick about it!”

Dean stomped his way out of the library, and Sam calmly continued his research.

 

Later that night, he stared at his ceiling and thought about what Dean had said. Thought about how it was hard for the conversation to matter when it was about 8 years too late.

The remnants of a breath mint fizzed on his tongue and called him ‘Gorgeous.’ He didn’t bother getting up to turn off the light.


	15. Chapter 15

“I just don’t understand why Gabriel was so bitchy about it. It’s not like it’s ever bothered him spilling people’s secrets before! And what did he have up his ass? He just resurrected himself, you’d think he’d be a little more happy, and a little less ready to bite my goddamn head off,” Dean complained.

Cas nodded. He didn’t think Dean would appreciate him pointing out that he’d already said the same thing to Cas about 40 times in the past few days since the actual occurrence.

“Sam was upset, and Gabriel felt bad about having been the cause -- that does tend to cause people to lash out,” he said, just as he had all of the previous times.

“Yeah, but...it’s Gabriel. Why does he care? He doesn’t care about anything.”

“My brother has been walking among humans almost as long as humans have been walking the earth. He has emotions in ways that many other angels don’t, so I would say he cares quite a lot.”

“Please! I barely convinced him to try and help everyone not get completely slaughtered at the Elysian Fields Hotel.”

“You know that he was so hesitant because he /did/ care. You would never be able to kill Sam, and for Gabriel, trying to kill Lucifer was just as hard. I know you want to put him solidly in the ‘bad’ side of things so that you can blame everything about Sam on him, but it’s not that simple.”

“But he’s a dick!”

Cas gave him a disapproving look.

“So why shouldn’t I blame everything on him?” Dean asked. “He’s fucking with his head. Sam just told me he’s been eating candy religiously for years! /Sam/. Did you know about that?”

Cas’ forehead creased. “No. Actually, I did not.”

“Freaky, right? That must have had something to do with Gabriel. That’s not normal Sam! Just how long do you think Gabriel’s been fucking around with his head?”

Cas was quiet for so long, Dean nearly checked in to see if he had been listening.

“Dean,” He said seriously. “Have you considered that Sam may have simply been...mourning Gabriel’s death?”

Dean was taken aback. “What?” he shook his head. “Gabriel did us a solid and we were both grateful for what he did, but he was still a dick. It’s not like we wanted him dead, but he didn’t do it for us, and he wasn’t real buddy-buddy with us to begin with. You know Sammy’s a little...emotional, but Gabriel wasn’t /mourning/ material.”

Cas pressed his lips together tightly. He supposed he couldn’t have expected anything else from Dean -- in fact he shouldn’t have even said it. Even if Dean refused to look too closely at the statement, it was still not Castiel’s to have shared.

“Why do you look like that? Do you know something else I don’t?” Dean asked.

Castiel sighed. “No Dean. I have some other business to be attending to.”

He disappeared with a faint rustle of wings, leaving a disgruntled Dean to stew alone.


	16. Chapter 16

"Hey gorgeous."

Gabriel was lounging on a bed much too large and lavish for the trashy motel room it was in.

Sam kicked the door shut behind himself, and toed off his pinching dress shoes. 

"Where's Dean?" he yawned. They had gone out on two separate cases in a town with apparently very bad luck.

Gabriel rolled his eyes dramatically. "Oh come on, you wanna talk about your brother?" He made a lewd face, and stretched his body in a clear attempt at seduction.

Sam sighed, undoing his tie and throwing his FBI badge on the table. "I'm not going to fuck you if my brother's gonna walk in."

"You're no fun."

Sam stared at him.

"Fine! He's still out interviewing people on the witch lead. He's gonna be another hour and a half at /least/."

Sam nodded tiredly, unbuttoning his dress shirt.

"So...about that seduction then?"

Sam finished hanging up the suit and walked over to the bed. He leaned down to cup one of Gabriel's cheeks, and gave him a lingering kiss. 

"Not tonight, Gabe." He crawled into bed, sighing in relief as his aching body relaxed. He was the kind of tired that went all the way down to the bone.

"Okay," Gabriel accepted quietly, and wound himself around Sam like a squid, as he was often wont to do. He stroked a hand through Sam's long hair, lightly scratching at the scalp.

Sam pressed a grateful kiss to the top of Gabriel's head, which was already pressed against his face, and drifted off.

His thoughts went hazy and detached, and...he opened his eyes.

Sam breathed heavily and blinked at the ceiling, trying to ignore the ache in his chest.   
That dream, while not technically a memory, might as well have been. It was too painfully similar to any number of actual memories, and it hurt that he could no longer have that.

Then he remembered that Gabriel was here. Gabriel was alive. Gabriel had used Sam's dreams to claw his way back. Gabriel had been in...Sam sat up straight.

"Gabriel!"

It was a shout, a prayer, an order. It didn't matter. Gabriel would hear him. Gabriel had better hear him. 

"Are you okay? What's wrong?" Gabriel appeared in front of Sam, fluttering his hands as if he wanted to make sure Sam was okay, but unsure if he was allowed to touch.

"Was that you?" Sam demanded.

"Was...what?" Gabriel's hands stilled as he caught up with Sam's brain.

"Was. That. You. Did you make me have that dream? Was that actually you in the dream?"

Gabriel felt weak for it, but he knew his face was showing his hurt again -- even as he tried to contain it.

"/No/."

"Why should I believe you? Tell me the truth, Gabriel!"

"It was just a dream, Sammy." Gabriel said quietly.

"Don't," Sam shouted, standing up to loom over Gabriel, "call me that!"

Gabriel let out a flat laugh. "I'm not messing with your head, okay? I would never do that to you on purpose."

"Really? Because I thought you loved fucking with people's heads. It seemed like you enjoyed it before when you fucked with my head as the trickster."

"Not /you/! Not like this!" Gabriel exclaimed, throwing his hands out in frustration. "You think I would ever, /ever/ want to make you question your own sanity? To put you in a position where you feel alone, and like everything is out of your control, and like your mind is slipping out of your own grasp?"

"What reason would I have to think you wouldn't?"

Gabriel looked positively stricken. Silence settled over the room for several moments.

"What. The /fuck/. Did you think the entire last /year/ before I died was?" Gabriel yelled.

He took a step forward into his space, and jabbed a finger at his chest. "Do you think I watched over you for funsies? Did you think I just got the notion in my head one day that it'd be a real laugh to constantly fret over whether /Sam Winchester/," he sneered the name, "was okay? Do you think I did everything I did for you motherfuckers regularly out of /charity/? Do you really think I spent my nights with you because I couldn't find anything more /entertaining/ to do?"

"I never claimed to know why you do anything, except for your own self preservation and amusement," Sam replied heatedly.

"You are so full of /shit/!" Gabriel's voice rose another octave. "Staying around you two is /counter/ to self preservation! Going along with how everything had to be a secret from your crazy possessive brother because he’d flip, but doing it all anyway is the /opposite/ of self preservation. I don't buy for a second that you really thought that I was just around for kicks!"

"Then enlighten me. Why were you so nobly around then?" Sam asked sarcastically.

"I don't know, /Sam/ -- why don't you look at your own goddamn dream? You thought it yourself: it's practically a fucking memory."

Sam's expression stayed shuttered.

"Because I /care/, dumbass!" Gabriel shouted. "Because I /care/ about you! Because I give a shit how you feel, and what happens to you! Because I fucking adore your brilliant little mind and I don't want anything to hurt it! Because your soul is so breathtaking, just a glimpse of it makes me impulsively want to protect you in case something else comes along and tries to break it again!” 

Gabriel clenched his fists, as he continued. “You know this! You /know/ these things! This was no secret! Maybe you can’t read thoughts, but everything, /everything/ I said and did for you showed you that. I don’t know how I could have made it more clear!"

"Don't act like things were different than they were!" Sam shouted right back. "It’s not like you’d wake me up with a ‘good morning Sam, I love you,’ or a ‘hope that hunt goes well, I love you.’ You were just always your normal douche-ass self, always just trying to make jokes and have a quick fuck.”

“Oh right! Obviously I was in it for a quick fuck -- duh! I mean, that’s totally why I spent every night with you talking and lulling you to sleep, and healing you, and making sure you were as comfortable as you could be, when we /didn’t even have sex that often/! Totally! Wow, I really see your point!” Gabriel gave a sharp, humourless laugh, and continued before Sam could reply.

“Is it the ‘I love you’s? Is that what you wanted to hear? Well, I love you Sammy! But newsflash: /that was never the question/. Loving people is easy, but staying around and trying to make something good out of it, /that’s/ the hard part! And that’s what I was /doing/.”

“/You were not obvious, Gabriel/,” Sam thundered. “Do you know how much it fucked me up when you died? Do you know how fucked up I was over the fact that I cared at all? I thought you obviously didn’t care, and you never take anything seriously, so why couldn’t I just stop being so /emotional/ about things that weren’t even important or serious. You weren’t supposed to be /anything/ to me.”

“Sorry, but that’s completely fucking stupid. I really am sorry you felt that way, but /nothing/ indicated we were just some no strings attached fling. It’s not /my/ fault that /you/ didn’t want to actually take a look at the situation you were in. It’s not like I’d just appear at random, we’d have some mind blowing sex, and then I’d just snap off to somewhere else. No, I was there /consistently/. I was /there for you/ when you needed me. I always stayed. This is a /you/ thing.”

“It doesn’t even /matter/! None of this even matters when I still can’t trust you, when it’s still hard to even look at you, because of what you’ve done to my head. The panic that sweeps through me sometimes...and I’m still not sure it’s unfounded. And it’s because of you. Even say I believe you about not intending it, you’ve still done it.”

“I know, and all I can do is apologize. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry, and I /understand/ you having trouble dealing with me now because of it. I’m not trying to push anything, but I /am/ telling you it’s not fair to pretend I would want to do something like that intentionally. I’m not going to force you to be around me though. I /do/ still care about you, and that means I’ll give you your space -- whatever you need.”

Sam was silent for several long moments as his mind roiled, before he leaned down and kissed him softly and deeply. He stroked a thumb over Gabriel’s cheek, as he pulled back and spoke quietly.

“Can we have this conversation again in a couple of weeks?”

“Yeah, sure thing Sammich.” Gabe said a bit breathlessly. He raised his hand to snap, but Sam grabbed his wrist. He shook his head, and wrapped Gabriel in a bear hug.

“I’m happy you’re not dead,” he whispered into Gabriel’s hair.

“Me too, kiddo. Me too.”


	17. Chapter 17

“It would not be helpful, nor would it be a particularly good idea to approach him about it!” Castiel insisted.

His patience with Dean was growing quite thin these days.

“It would be helpful to /me/!” Dean fumed. “So he was, what, fucking Gabriel for that whole last year? And hiding it from me?”

“I believe he hid it precisely to avoid this reaction.”

“I’m not mad because of what it /was/, I’m mad because he /hid/ it.”

“Really?” Castiel asked challengingly.

“Fine! No, I’d be fucking pissed anyway! But so what? I’m right to be. It’s /Gabriel/. Sam hasn’t exactly had the best judgement in terms of partners since Jess.”

Cas gritted his teeth. “I’m sorry you find an angel to be such a horrifying match for your brother.”

“All of them are massive dickheads, why /would/ I want my brother with an angel?”

Castiel’s stare went flat. He clenched his jaw and leaned away.

“Just leave your brother alone. Sam doesn’t need this right now, he’s just trying to get back on stable ground. It’s not his fault you were eavesdropping on things you weren’t meant to hear.”

“I couldn’t /help/ but hear! They were yell--”

Castiel disappeared before Dean could even finish responding.


	18. Chapter 18

Sam laid back on his bed, twirling a wrapped lollipop in his fingers. He could still faintly taste Gabriel’s lips. The taste of coffee cake lingered tantalizingly just as it had the first time. Sam briefly wondered if Gabriel had remembered and somehow done it on purpose.

He tapped the sucker against his mouth as he thought. He really was glad Gabriel was back, even if this was how it had had to happen. Unfortunately, it still didn’t make Sam certain he was actually sane most of the time. Over the past few days, he’d had several instances where a cold feeling had washed over him, and he’d been briefly certain that Gabriel wasn’t really back at all and he’d just been hallucinating.

Sam hated how particular he had to be about double and triple checking reality with as many of his senses as possible. It felt like walking around half still in a dream, where everything was a bit surreal and it was hard to tell up from down.

It wasn’t that he /resented/ Gabriel, but Gabriel’s presence brought that unsteady feeling on full force. He’d spent eight years dealing with Gabriel being dead, and encouraging his little pseudo-hallucinations to pretend he wasn’t, so now that he actually wasn’t Sam’s mind was in constant turmoil, trying to reconcile the facts.

Quite honestly, he’d missed Gabriel more than he would’ve cared to admit before their little conversation. His skin was still glowing from their contact that morning, and while it had eased his aching in some ways, in others it made it worse. Now that he’d finally gotten to touch again, it felt cruel to have had to let go.

“Gabriel,” he prayed aloud tentatively. “I changed my mind. Can you come here?”

“What’s up Sam-a-lam?”

Sam opened his arms, and Gabriel gave him a quick measuring look before clambering onto the bed and fitting himself up against Sam’s side.

“Missed you,” Sam mumbled, stroking a steady hand over Gabriel’s back. “Really, really missed you.”

Gabriel hummed contentedly. “So what changed?”

Sam shrugged. “Nothing really, I’m still just...seeing how things are gonna go.” He glanced at Gabriel out of the corner of his eye, and added slyly, “And we haven’t had any spectacular resurrection sex yet.”

“Well, you sure do know how to catch my attention.” Gabriel tilted his head up for a kiss, and Sam obliged. 

“I should hope so,” he answered, kissing down Gabriel’s jaw, savoring the sticky sweet honey taste Gabriel had already left on his tongue. “I’d hate for you to miss any of the good parts.”


	19. Chapter 19

Sam couldn’t keep his hands still. They jumped from place to place, running over Gabriel’s hair, framing his face, soothing over his sides. Even as he laid otherwise still, mostly on top of Gabriel, he couldn’t stop his hands from compulsively checking. Making sure he was real, solid.

He revelled silently in the slide of skin just a few degrees too warm under his palms. 

“Gabe?”

“Hmm?”

“You’re sure this is real, right? You’re not just in my head?”

“Yeah, Sammy. I’m real. Living and breathing. Right here.” He ran a comforting hand over Sam’s back, still slightly sticky with sweat.

“Good. Because I’m gonna beat you up if you’re lying and you’re actually still dead and I just had sex with a hallucination.”

“No need, Sammykins, I’m the real deal. You think your made up mind-Gabriel could fuck like that? I’m hurt, truly.”

Sam huffed out a laugh. “Thanks.”

“For the sex? Anytime!”

Sam laughed again, and ran his fingers around Gabriel’s eyes. “You know what I meant.”

Gabriel winked. “Of course, handsome. Why would I ever want you unsure if I, in my full magnificence, was here? To have you pass me up just because you didn't know I was here? I think not! A risk for a braver man than me.”

He felt Sam smile against his chest, and smiled in response.

“You’re too cute for such a ginormous unwieldy thing.” 

Sam snorted. “And you flirt too much like a fifteen-year-old for a being literally older than the concept of mankind.”

“Well that makes this sound super creepy. Talk about a cradle robber, eh?”

Sam covered Gabriel’s entire face with one of his hands to silence him. “Shh, that’s gross,” he snickered.

Gabriel licked his hand, and Sam scoffed.

“I’ve had your spit /all/ over me, and you think that’s gonna make me move my hand?”

Gabriel’s eyes took on a challenging sparkle, as he purposefully started to draw slow, swirling designs across Sam’s palm with the tip of his tongue.

Sam tilted his head up from Gabriel’s chest to stare at him, as he licked a deliberate stripe with the flat of his tongue.

“You are a menace,” Sam muttered, and took his hand away. He hauled himself up on all fours to kiss Gabriel properly.

“Mmm, yeah, but I’m a /hot/ menace.” He worked both of his hands into Sam’s hair as he explored his mouth.

“Hey S-- Oh! Fucking gross!”

Sam simply let all of his weight go, with little regard for the tiny angel beneath him. He was sturdy -- he’d be fine.

“Get /out/, Dean,” he groaned, refusing to look up.

“Done,” Dean said, holding up his hands and turning around. He stepped out and closed the door. “We're talking about this later though!” he yelled.

“Great,” he heard Sam sigh through the door.


	20. Chapter 20

Sam sat on the couch, now fully clothed, with arms crossed challengingly. 

“So when were you going to tell me about this?” Dean demanded, as he paced in front of Sam.

“Ideally? Never.”

“Why do you have to hide everything from me?!”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “You’ve hidden some crazy shit from me, Dean. We hide shit from each other -- it’s what we do. Plus I didn’t feel like going through the little meltdown you’re currently having.”

“I already /knew/, I just didn’t want to /see it/!”

“What?” Sam asked, startled. “You knew? Since when? And you actually kept your mouth shut?”

“Since your little fight this morning.”

Sam relaxed. “Oh. That /so/ does not count as ‘already knowing,’” he held up air quotes. “I’m surprised you managed not to come bitch at me earlier though.”

“Cas told me not to!”

“Oh wow, your boyfriend actually gets you to listen sometimes now,” Sam said drily. He wasn’t going to waste a single opportunity to needle Dean -- he was still mad at him for interrupting.

“My-- what? Listen just because /you’re/ gay or whatever does /not/ mean I am!”

Sam let out a long-suffering sigh. “Nevermind, Dean. And I’m not gay, dumbass, you /know/ that.”

“Well whatever, you’re fucking a dude.”

“/Don’t/ imply that I didn’t love Jess!” Sam said harshly. “And it doesn’t even matter if I’m into dudes, I don’t know, maybe I am, but Gabriel’s an /angel/.”

“So? He’s still got a dick.”

“Talking to you is like talking to a five year old sometimes!”

“What? Because I’m pointing out that he’s a dude?”

“Angels don’t have a gender!”

“Fine, whatever, but his vessel--”

“Is irrelevant! Who cares what he has, it doesn’t concern you! Okay, he has a dick, great, so did Jess!”

“Wait, Jess was a dude?”

“/No/, Jess was not a fucking /dude/, you asshole!”

“But you just said she had--”

“Did you seriously not know Jess was trans? That was my whole point!”

“/No/! You didn’t tell me!”

“I most definitely /did/, you probably just weren’t listening! Jess /asked/ me to make sure you knew before you two met, because we both know you’re not the best at dealing with differences, especially if you’re not expecting it.”

“I don’t know, this is the first I’ve heard this information!”

“Which proves that you weren’t listening! But you know what, that also serves my point, because look at how much it affected you! It didn’t. It literally didn’t matter if you knew or not, because it’s irrelevant.”

“But--”

“Just don’t say anything else, okay? Don’t dig yourself deeper.”

“Fine, whatever. Me and Cas are /not/ a thing, though. I’m not into that.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “This is the most tiring conversation I’ve ever had.”

“Then let’s not have it! What I want to know is why you’re back messing around with Gabriel if he did some shit to your head? What did he even do to you?”

“It’s not important,” Sam sighed. “He didn’t do anything on purpose, and I’m fine.”

“Well you seemed plenty upset about it before!”

“Just drop it, okay? I’m fine.”

Dean did not look pleased, but he stayed silent.

“Am I free to go now?” Sam asked.

“Fine. Just.../tell/ me shit, okay?”

“I’ll start telling you shit when you stop freaking out about every little thing. Spend some quality time with Google, or talk to /Cas/ or something.” Sam held himself back from saying ‘your boyfriend’ again as a peace offering. Not that Dean would be appreciative.


	21. Chapter 21

“Sam called you my boyfriend,” Dean blurted.

Castiel tilted his head. “Why are you telling me this?”

Dean blushed, and ran a flustered hand through his hair. “Uh, I don’t know. Just...do we act like....?”

“We have not agreed to engage in a romantic relationship,” Cas hedged.

“Yeah, but do we, I mean do /I/ seem...nevermind.”

Ordinarily he would’ve pushed the issue, but this particular issue...Cas didn’t really feel like continuing a conversation about how uncomfortable Dean was with the idea of them being together.

“He was also saying something about angels not having a gender…”

“Yes? You know this.”

“But, but you’re a dude, right?”

“No.”

“But we call you that all the time, and we call you ‘he’ and stuff.”

“I do not mind. You could refer to me in whichever way you wish.”

“But you’re in a male vessel.”

Cas’ brow creased

“I inhabit a vessel which is usually inhabited by Jimmy, who is a male, yes. I do not understand what this vessel has to do with /my/ lack of gender, though.”

“But-- well-- I just...so you’re not a dude?”

“No.”

“And Gabriel’s not a dude?”

“None of the angels are ‘dudes,’” he held up air quotes. “And neither are they anything else. Your patriarchal society decided to describe us as male, to describe our father as male too, but the concept of gender did not yet exist when He created us.”

“God? But He’s a /He/, and He’s your /Father/?”

Cas looked exasperated. “Well we /are/ using your language. These are not the same things we say in Enochian. And even in English, these things are not necessarily indicative of gender.”

“Okay,” Dean said, hesitantly.

“Is this about you being afraid that Sam is gay?”

“I’m not /afraid/!”

“Well you do tend to be rather rude about those in same-sex relationships, and very defensive when someone implicates you.”

“Well I’m not, you know…!” Dean waved his hands.

“Yes, you’ve made it incredibly clear,” Cas said drily. “But regardless, Sam is not gay, I would’ve thought you’d know that better than me.”

Dean blushed. “Well, I mean, that’s the other thing. He said Jess had, uh, well she...didn’t have a female body? So I mean, that’s kinda...and Ruby was a demon, so she doesn’t really count.”

“Why do demons’ genders not matter, but angels’ do?”

“Well, I mean, she’s still-- I guess--,” Dean stuttered. “I don’t know!”

Cas frowned. “Jess was female, was she not?”

“Yes? I think? Sam said so…”

“And her body was her own?” Cas prompted.

“I mean, yeah. She was just human, so she wasn’t like, possessing someone.”

“So then her body was female.” Cas concluded.

“Uh...I guess? I mean you get what I was saying though?”

“You seem to be very hung up on specific anatomy.”

“Er, yeah.”

“Why? I do not understand why these specifics concern you? What does body have to do with soul? You do not look anything like your soul. Your soul is vibrant, and always quivering with excited energy. Your body is rather monochrome and stoic. Does this change the fact that you /are/, in fact, energetic?”

“No,” Dean relented. “But that’s different!”

“How? I am an angel, but I look human, I am in a human body. Does that make me human?”

“No.”

“Then what’s different, Dean?”

“I don’t /know/.”

“Consider that it may simply be /you/, and your need to oversimplify and cling onto long held perceptions.”

“Okay, but even if you’re right, Sam is still messing around with Gabriel again, even though he fucked with his head!”

“You just want to have a problem, don’t you?”

“No! The problems are just there!”

“Much like everything else we’ve talked about, it’s not really your business, but Sam is fine.”

“How do you /know/, and why will none of you tell me what he did?”

“It is only Sam’s to tell, and he has determined it no longer important.”

“But how do you know it’s fine? Gabriel could still be fucking with him!”

“He’s not. Sam will be fine, Gabriel cares about him, and wouldn’t purposefully hurt or manipulate him.”

“How can you be /sure/, though?”

“I trust my brother,” Cas snapped. “And maybe you should trust yours. He is an adult.”

“He doesn’t always make the best decisions though.”

“But they are /his/ decisions to make. Was this all you wanted to talk to me for?”

Dean opened and closed his mouth silently. After several moments, he cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah. I guess. Thanks.”

Castiel nodded once, and disappeared with a soft swish.

Dean stared at where Cas had been standing, and sighed. Why did things always have to be so /complicated/?


	22. Chapter 22

Sam awoke with a gasp, and patted the bed beside himself.

“Gabriel?” he asked, sitting up when he felt nothing.

Gabriel opened the bedroom door and stepped in. “Hey handsome, I’m right here. I was just looking around the bunker. Cool place you’ve got here.”

Sam breathed out a sigh of relief and held out his hands. Gabriel plopped himself right down in Sam’s lap, and gave him a quick kiss on the forehead. 

“Right here,” he reassured again, quietly.

“Thanks.” Sam rested his forehead against Gabriel’s chest, and wrapped his arms securely around him. He listened to the slow, steady heartbeat, and tried to meter out his breathing with it.

/In/ two three four five six seven eight, /out/ two three four five six seven, /in/ two three four five six seven eight, /out/...

“You going back to sleep?” Gabriel asked, when his eyes began to droop again.

“Hmm yeah,” Sam mumbled. “Stay?”

“Sure thing, Samshine.” He gently pushed back on Sam’s shoulders until he laid down properly again, and nestled his face comfortably against Sam’s neck. “Sleep tight.”

“You’ll be here when I wake up, right?” Sam slurred, already falling under.

“Yeah, promise,” Gabe whispered. Now, what to do for approximately four more hours of not being able to move? 

He listened to Sam’s deep, stable breathing, and let his mind wander. He never would have guessed that this was where he’d end up one day: happy to stay in one place, and not only actually /commit/ to a partner, but open up and share himself with them. In a lot of ways it was terrifying, but it was also turning out to be so rewarding. 

Even though Sam had apparently not read the year before Gabriel had died as serious, that didn’t change that it /had/ been for Gabriel. He didn’t regret it. In the past, he might have seen it as a waste of time, but now it just felt like he’d gotten extra, secret, practice time almost. Like he’d gotten a rehearsal run of their relationship.

“I love you,” he turned the words over on his tongue pensively. Was that something he should get used to saying now? It seemed to be something Sam wanted, and it certainly couldn’t hurt. He wound the ends of Sam’s hair around his fingers. “I love you.”

Sam stirred a bit, but didn’t open his eyes, and Gabriel huffed out a small laugh. Yeah, his life was a bit surreal nowadays. But hey, he’d brought himself back from the dead, so it really wasn’t so surprising that things weren’t /normal/.

Gabriel sighed, and resigned himself for the next few hours to be entertained by tracing small designs and tapping light rhythms across Sam’s skin until he awoke.

“Are you using me for morse code?” Sam asked groggily.

“Good morning sleepyhead. I’m not, but I could.” He brushed his index finger up. Tap. Brush. Tap. Pause. Tap tap, brush. Pause. Brush. Pause. Tap tap. Pause. Tap.

Sam grinned against his will as he processed the little message. C-U-T-I-E. “You still flirt like you’re fifteen.”

“Maybe,” Gabriel allowed. “But it /works/.”

Sam turned his face to kiss the top of Gabriel’s head. “Maybe sometimes,” he relented.

There was a brisk knock on the door.

“Can I open the door, or am I gonna be scarred for life again?”

“What do you want, Dean?” Sam groaned.

Dean hesitantly opened the door and peeked in.

“Ugh, gross.”

“/What/?” Sam asked, annoyed. “We’re dressed! We’re not doing anything!”

Dean muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like it contained the words ‘revoltingly domestic,’ as he stepped into the room.

“Jealous, Dean-o?” Gabriel laughed.

“No!” Dean practically shouted, blushing.

Gabriel raised an eyebrow at Dean’s thoughts. “Interesting…”

“What?” Sam asked

“Nothing important,” Gabriel dismissed easily, and hopped up onto his feet. “Alright Samskidoodle, Cas wants to have a little chat with me about some heavenly affairs.” He glanced back at Dean, “That’s why you’re here, right?”

“What? Oh, uh, yeah.”

Gabriel rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I think I have plenty of things I need to talk to /him/ about too.”

Dean’s eyes darted to Gabriel’s and then quickly away. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing at all, Deanie-boy, nothing at all.”

“Listen, if this is because you thought you saw something in my head--”

“Don’t worry bucko,” Gabriel clapped Dean on the chest as he passed around him to leave the room. “Your ‘secrets’ are safe with me. This is /all/ about Cassie.”

“I don’t /have/ a secret!” he protested, but his shoulders slumped in relief. “And what’s with the air quotes?”

Gabriel ignored him, already halfway down the hall, and Sam tried very hard to look as though he wasn’t hiding a laugh.

“What was with the air quotes?” Dean mumbled again.

Sam shrugged. There was no point in pointing out the obvious.

He cleared his throat. “So...that was all you were here for, right?”

“Uh. No,” Dean admitted. “I actually wanted to say I’m sorry about that whole...conversation we had the other day.

“Oh.” Sam was a bit taken aback that Dean was actually apologising instead of sweeping it under the rug and never speaking of it again, but he wasn’t going to shove it back in his face. “Yeah. Thanks.”

Dean shifted on his feet, and surreptitiously felt for the door behind him. “So...chick flick moment over, or…?”

Sam laughed. “Yeah, you’re good to go.” He gave him a thumbs up and Dean practically fled the room. Probably to go eavesdrop, and make sure Gabriel wasn’t telling Cas how madly in love with him Dean was, or that’s what Sam assumed anyway.


	23. Chapter 23

“Come on Cassie, this is getting ridiculous!”

“I fail to see what you mean, I am making the most rational decision to keep things as they are.”

Gabriel tilted his head. Ah. Dean was lurking outside listening to see if Gabriel was going to spill all his mushy secrets.

“That’s stupid. You’ve been ass over elbow for him since before you even knew what feelings /were/!” He responded quickly, before Cas noticed anything. Gabriel knew he was a lot more sensitive than Cas, but he also knew Cas had extra spidey-senses where Dean was involved, so he wasn’t sure if he was aware Dean was listening in. Gabriel didn’t want to give him away if Cas wasn’t aware though -- hopefully it would do them all some good for Dean to hear this little chat. /If/ he could get through it without freaking out and barging in, that was.

“I’ve known what feelings are for quite a long time before Dean existed,” Cas sniffed.

Gabriel rolled his eyes. “Okay so you /knew/, but you didn’t /understand/.”

“I did not understand,” Cas allowed. “But you are well aware from our conversations eight years ago that what I feel is irrelevant to me. It would make Dean uncomfortable.”

“Oh come /on/, you can read thoughts too, I’m not alone here! Hello, you /know/ he’s interested.” Gabriel tried to ignore the panic coming from Dean’s mind outside the room.

“Yes, although I do try to avoid listening, it can be very difficult to block out everything. However, that doesn’t change the fact that humans have plenty of errant thoughts or...or fantasies that they don’t /actually/ want to happen.”

“Yeah, but--”

“We had a...very strange conversation the other day. He seemed to be almost trying to convince /me/ that I was a man. And that so were you, among other beings. Particularly our Father.”

“Dad?!” Gabriel laughed. “Seriously? /Our/ dad?”

“Yes, I thought you’d find that funny,” Cas’ mouth quirked up a bit before he returned to the issue of Dean. “The whole thing started because he was upset that it might seem to others sometimes that we are…‘dating.’ He goes out of his way to bring up conversations like these, and visibly show his discomfort at the idea of any contact with me beyond platonic. Why would I then approach him and confess my feelings as if that would change anything beyond making him afraid to be around me?”

Gabriel sighed. “Of /course/ he was trying to put you in the ‘man’ category, like he has been this /whole time/. It makes it easier for him to comfortably slap on the ‘Not Allowed’ sticker. Not that he’s very good at following that, as you’ll know from whatever /fantasies/, as you say, that you’ve seen. Or if you’ve had the misfortune to hear him checking out dudes at the bar.” He shuddered, remembering one time he’d been checking in on Sam while the brothers were out, and, well, it seemed that Dean had been left high and dry for quite a while longer than he was used to, and it had put him in a rather...creative mood.

Cas frowned. “I have /not/ ever heard him…‘checking dudes out at the bar,’” he put up air quotes.

“Ah. Of course you haven’t,” Gabriel laughed as he realized why. “If /you’re/ there. I doubt he takes his eyes off you long enough to take a proper look at anyone else.”

“Hmm. Still, as I said, imagination means nothing. He gets very upset at a hint of someone suggesting he is not straight, and I may not be a man, but I am not a woman.”

“The man’s gone through most of his /life/ in a perpetual bisexual panic! He’s scared! I don’t know how that whole conversation went, but I’ve seen some pieces of it, and I know he was all worried about Sam being gay. He isn’t willing to just...let things make sense. It’s like he has to make everything difficult for everyone, including -- /especially/ including -- himself.” 

He held up a hand to stop Cas shaking his head. “Listen, I’m not saying just drop everything on him, we both know he’ll just panic more and run away, but do something. I’d be willing to bet quite a lot that he is actually interested, and not just...entertaining hypotheticals, or whatever you think.”

Dean’s mind reached a new level of noise. An extra level of loud confusion and consideration had added on top of the ear splitting panic which had been mounting throughout the conversation.

Castiel’s eyes flicked to the door, but he didn’t look surprised. Perhaps he /had/ known Dean was there the whole time. Gabriel raised an eyebrow and looked from the door back to him. Cas gave a small nod, and a slow grin split Gabriel’s face.

“You’ll work something out just fine, baby bro. Don’t worry about it.” He clapped Cas on the shoulder. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have an appointment with my own hunter.”


	24. Chapter 24

“Movie night!” Gabriel declared several days later. He slammed a handful of DVDs on the table, startling the hunters who had been quietly eating dinner.

“What?” Dean asked, annoyed.

“We’re having a movie night!”

“Like, right now?” Sam asked.

“No,” Dean butted in. “You’re just gonna force me to sit through a low rated rom com while you try to grope my brother in the dark right next to me.”

Gabriel pulled a comically offended face. “Okay, first of all,” he began ticking points off on his fingers, “I have excellent taste in movies and, if you will direct your attention to my specimens, you’ll see that we will be watching very /highly/ rated rom coms. Plural. Secondly, there is no try, there is only /do/, and /do not/.” He grinned devilishly at the disgusted face Dean made. “And /lastly/, there is an entire other set of chairs for you to choose from, I’m not forcing you to sit on the couch with us.”

“Sam, can’t you stop him or something?”

“From groping me when you’re in the room? Yes. From doing movie night?” he shrugged. “Probably.” Dean looked relieved. “But I won’t,” Sam added. “Don’t see a problem with it. Have you got something better to do?”

“Yeah, this is for family bonding time,” Gabriel chimed back in.

Dean grimaced. He didn’t want to be putting ‘Gabriel’ and ‘family’ next to each other any time soon. Or ever.

“Oh come on! I already invited Cas and he said yes, don’t make me third wheel him!”

On cue, Cas appeared.

“There you are!” Gabriel exclaimed. “Tell Dean to stop being a party pooper and join in on movie night.”

“Why do you not want to? I think it sounds like a good time.”

Dean caved. “Fine!” he turned to Gabriel. “No rom coms and you got yourself a deal.”

Gabriel grinned. He snapped and the Rush Hour movies appeared, fanned out, in his hand.

“Deal.”

They all got settled in as Gabriel started the first movie, and Sam pretended not to notice Dean ‘accidentally’ pushing his armchair up against Cas’.

He stretched out on the couch, letting his legs go off the other end so he could lay his head on the armrest. Gabriel unceremoniously laid down on top of him and manually wrapped Sam’s arms around himself. Sam smiled a bit at his antics and squeezed his arms a bit tighter.

Much to Dean’s dismay, Gabriel kept up a running commentary through the movie, pointing out plot holes and heckling the characters. He didn’t leave though, so Sam figured he couldn’t have been too upset.

About halfway through the second movie, he glanced back at Dean. He seemed to be drifting off, slumped over the edge of his chair all the way to lean on Cas’ shoulder. Sam smiled, and then did a double take. Wait-- was that…?

Yep, at a second glance he could see that his and Cas’ hands were intertwined, resting on the angel’s leg. He watched as Cas squeezed his hand, and Dean’s eyes blinked open. Dean gave his head a tiny shake, and looked up at Cas, who was still staring at the movie. He directed his gaze back to the screen as well, but it didn’t take long for his eyes to droop closed again.

Sam shifted his shoulder a bit to jostle Gabriel, who looked up at him in askance. He tilted his head subtly at Dean and Cas, and Gabriel smirked, nodding.

“When?” Sam whispered quietly.

Gabriel wiggled his eyebrows and tapped his lips. Right, it wasn’t his to tell. Sam supposed it didn’t matter, but he wondered how long it would take Dean to tell him.

“You idiot! Look around you!” Gabriel yelled at the screen, stuffing yet another candy wrapper into the sofa cushions.

It was hard for Sam to hold back a smile. Gabriel’s weight on him was reassuring, and the smell of chocolate and peanuts was thick in the air as he let his eyes slide closed. He was surrounded by the people he loved, and they weren’t in a bad shape for once. They were all...happy. 

Things just might be okay after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it! I hope you enjoyed it!


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